Bellarke One Shots
by hellabellarke
Summary: just some one shots that i think of, if you have a request let me know! love you guys! rated t for now, might change to m later
1. AN

**hey everyone! this first chapter is just an authors note, but the first chapter will be posted soon. these are all just one shots and maybe the occasional 2-3 part stories. if you have any requests on stories just let me know and i'll try to get to everyone. also let me know if this is a good idea because i'm not sure. thank you for your feedback! i love you all and thank you so much for supporting my other stories (mainly thoughts) because i worked really hard on them for a long time. if you haven't read thoughts yet you should go check it out, it's a post season 4 bellarke fanfiction about how everyone is coping with everything happening. it focuses mainly on bellamy but there are some other character povs too. (i know that promoting your own stuff is kinda annoying but i really enjoyed the story and i think you will too). i love you guys! leave requests!**


	2. Screw The Head pt1

_post 505_

I let out an aggravated sigh, beginning to get annoyed, as Clarke abruptly stands up from her seat by the fire as I approach her, and practically runs across the camp and into her tent.

She's been ignoring me for the last couple days and I can honestly say it's been eating me alive not being able to talk to her. We had so much catching up to do. I just got her back.

Just when I was about to follow her into her tent to have a well earned discussion on what was so off between us, I heard someone calling my name.

"Bellamy," My heart wrenches uncomfortably at the sound of Echo's voice, which is something it probably shouldn't do, considering she was my _girlfriend_.

I am met with the same feeling at that thought. I'm not even sure what's wrong. But something just doesn't feel right.

She approaches me, the light smile instantly dropping from her face when she catches my expression. And due to the unamused pout that befalls her face, I'm pretty sure my face is dancing between a mixture of frustration, sadness, and guilt.

"Bellamy, what's wrong?" Echo accentuates her caring words by placing her hand on my arm, in what I assume was meant to be a comforting act, but I instantly shrug her off.

She returns the action with a concerned expression, that no matter how hard I tried to read, I just couldn't. Unlike Clarke.

I felt guilt gnaw at my stomach at the unintentional thought.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" She eases, and I am about to tell her, but something just doesn't feel right about complaining about Clarke ignoring me to her. It just doesn't seem to sit well with me.

But Echo is bright, something I admire about her, and after a few more moments of looking into my eyes, something in her mind clicks, and I watch as the fire of anger and jealousy fuels up in her eyes, but only for an instant, before it is replaced by a look of sorrow. A look of loss.

She sighs quietly, before taking my hand and leading me to the tent we had been occupying with Monty and Harper.

She opens the orange flap to reveal it being empty. Perfect for some emotional conversations. And I had a feeling that that was where this interaction was headed.

We step inside and echo shuts the zipper behind us, before turning to look at me. She holds my eyes for a moment, before letting hers fall and heaving a quiet sigh.

"You lied." Is the first thing she states, her voice cracking.

"What?" I ask in confusion, raking my mind for the time she must be referring to.

"You said nothing would change on the ground," She replied, and this time, I couldn't even get out any words. I swallowed, and glanced into her eyes, expecting to see betrayal or anger, but only seeing sadness.

"But it did." She croaked out, and I could tell she was on the verge of tears. By instinct, I wanted to reach out and help her, but I had a feeling that that is the last thing she would want right now.

"Echo," I start, trying to think of something, _anything_ to say in reply to that.

"Everything changed." She said, closing her eyes as if to hold back tears. She breathed in and out deeply before bringing her eyes back up to meet mine.

I stared at her, the hurt that was clearly evident on her face making my throat close, knowing that it was my fault she was feeling this way.

"I can't do this anymore, Bellamy." She says, and I feel shame spike through my veins. My mouth goes dry.

"I know," I say shakily, my brows furrowing. She nods and sniffles quietly. Before I can say or do anything else, she embraces me in a hug.

I wrap my arms around her, stunned by all that had happened in the last couple minutes. But my mind couldn't help but drift to Clarke. I assumed that the way I had acted around her was the reason Echo was doing this. I couldn't blame her.

I know my feelings for Clarke, hell, I have known for the past six years. But I was also pretty sure I knew hers for me. And I seriously doubted she felt the same.

Echo pulled away, her eyes slightly wet. She met mine with a small smile.

"I love you, you know?" She says, and I felt my whole body tense up at the sudden confession.

"That's why I need to let you go." Her voice cracks over the last couple words, but before I can respond, she's gone.


	3. Screw The Head pt2

"Clarke!" I shout at her from across the camp, and I watch a few heads turn in my direction, but none of them hers.

I let out a huff of annoyance, knowing very well she can hear me. She's just choosing to ignore me. Still.

But this time I'm not going to let her. I quickly make my way across camp, dodging a few people as I speed walk over to her.

"Clarke," I say when I reach her, causing her to spin around so fast, I'm surprised she didn't get whiplash.

"What is it, Bellamy?" She asks, adverting her eyes from mine.

I frown at her, feeling anger bubbling up inside me at her actions. She's been so distant. And I hate it.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" I ask, and watch her eyes widen at the confrontation.

"I haven't been avoiding you, Bellamy," She says, suddenly becoming very interested in her shoes.

"I've just been-"

"Avoiding me." I finish the sentence for her, both of us knowing very well that it is true.

She's silent for a moment, as if plotting her escape from this awkward conversation.

"I don't have time for this, Bellamy." Clarke finally gets out, before turning on her heels and quickly walking into her tent. And me, being me, I follow her.

"Clarke, you can't hide from me forever, what is going on with you?" I prompt, and she fiddles with the hem of her jacket, not offering any response.

"You have to talk to me," I say, trying to get her to meet my eyes. And utterly failing, unsurprisingly.

"Come on, Clarke. You've been acting weird since-" Then it hits me. Like a pile of bricks. All this time, she... because of...

Clarke notices my abrupt silence, and her eyes raise slowly, finally focusing on my face. There is so much emotion swimming around in her beautiful blue orbs, how did I not notice it before?

"Clarke..." Is all I can manage to get out, my mind still in shock and trying to process everything.

All she does is let out a long sigh, before focusing her eyes just behind me. My lips part as I stare at her, utterly stunned by the situation.

"The head over the heart," She mumbles, so quietly it's almost inaudible. Which makes me question if it was even meant to be heard by me.

But I let that statement jar me. If this means what I think it does, then I was so miserably wrong before. All this time I had been frustrated with Clarke for hurting me, I never even thought that I could've been hurting her.

I wasn't thinking. I was so overwhelmed by everything Clarke had just implied with her words and body language, how could I be? So I went against the one thing Clarke had told me to do. The thing that I had lived by for the past six years.

"Screw the head." I growl, before walking over to Clarke, cupping beautiful face in my hands, and doing what I had only fantasized about, what I never thought I would ever have to chance to actually do.

I kissed her.

And when my lips met hers, perfectly soft and pink, I swear I saw stars. It was like everything else in the world had disappeared. Like nothing else mattered. Because in this moment, nothing did.

At first her arms lay at her sides, as if she didn't even realize what was happening, but as soon as Clarke came to her senses, she had brought her hand up to his waist and moved her lips against his.

For Bellamy, it was like everything had fallen into place. Every single thing that hadn't felt right for the last six years, suddenly had meaning. He suddenly understood. It just made sense.

The kiss was slow, and gentle, but also passionate, demanding. It was perfect. It was everything the two of them had spent endless nights dreaming about, staring at each other from thousands of miles apart. And more.

When they finally pulled apart, Bellamy rested his forehead against hers, large grins taking over both of their faces as their breath mingled together.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," Bellamy said after a moment, the smile not falling from his face.

"Let me guess," Clarke replies, a smirk in her tone.

"Six years?" Bellamy chuckles at her response.

"And then some," He says, taking in every one of her amazing features, realizing for the millionth time how truly grateful he is that she survived Praimfaya.

"I'm glad you're here," She says, as if reading his thoughts.

"Better get used to it," He replies.

"Because I am _not_ leaving you again."


	4. Love Me Too (angst)

_post s2, alternate ending where clarke came back to arkadia before pike. (gina doesn't exist)_

 **.**

"Bellamy! I need to go! I need to do this!" Clarke shouts desperately at her co-leader.

"Why you?" He yells back, pleading her to stay.

"Why not Monty, or Raven, or Harper, or Murphy, for gods sake why can't we just send Murphy!" Bellamy's voice begins to strain as he rambles, and Clarke is beginning to get fed up with this.

"Because, I need to be the one to see her, Lexa said she'd only talk to me!" Clarke cries in response, but still managing to spit out the heda's name like poison. Although it had been a few months since she had abandoned her people and their deal at Mount Weather, Clarke still felt a strong hatred toward Lexa.

Bellamy's eyes widen and his jaw clenches as he inhales deeply.

"Clarke, please." He says, his tone growing exasperated.

"Bellamy..." She responds, knowing very well that she needs to make this trip to Polis, alone. Knowing very well that it is dangerous, and knowing very well that she may never return. But it was the only way for peace.

Bellamy knew these things as well. He also knew that she would sacrifice herself for her people in a heartbeat, which only added to his worry.

"You can't go." He says sternly, and Clarke looks at him, her eyes saying 'But I need to.' But Bellamy wasn't having it.

"I just got you back, Clarke." He voices the words that had been banging around in his head this whole conversation. Bellamy watches as her eyes soften and she examines him closely, not taking her eyes off his.

"Remember when you told me that you couldn't lose me too?" He asks, and she frowns at the memory, her head slightly tilting toward the ground.

"Well, maybe..." Bellamy breathes in deeply as he tries to choose his next words carefully.

"Maybe I can't lose you either," He finally says, and keeps his vision focused on his shoes as his voice cracks over the sentence. When he finally brings his eyes up to Clarke, he sees understanding, kindness, and some other emotion he just can't place; all swimming around in her beautiful blue orbs.

After a few moments of just silently staring at each other, she finally offers him a small smile.

"I know, Bellamy." She murmurs, and for a moment, he lets himself feel hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, she'll ditch this dumb polis plan. But his wish is quickly shattered with her next words.

"But I need to go." She says, and Bellamy feels anger bubble up in his veins.

 _Doesn't she get it? Everything I just told her? Or did that just go right over her intelligent, pretty head?_

"No you don't, not really." Bellamy protests, but she just shakes her head at him, dismissing his words.

"Yes, I do. I need to go. I need to make sure that Lexa stops Ice Nation from hurting us. I need to make sure that we're safe." She says, her voice steady and stable; like she's so sure this will work. However, Bellamy is thinking the exact opposite.

"But who's going to make sure _you're_ safe?" Bellamy says, his voice coming out no louder than a whisper. But she hears him. And part of him wishes she didn't.

At first she seems taken aback, her eyebrows furrowing as she glances at the ground in shock. After a moment of collecting her thoughts, she looks back to him.

"I don't know, Bellamy." She replies honestly. "But that's not what's important. What's important is that-"

"What's important is that you're alive, Clarke!" Bellamy interrupts, trying his best to calm himself down, but failing miserably whenever Clarke says another thing to change the subject from her.

"That's what's important to me." He finishes, and Clarke stares at him, unable to fully comprehend the fact that Bellamy Blake is having a meltdown over her well being right in front of her.

"Don't say that, you know it's more important that everyone else is safe! Not just me! If the roles were switched you would go! And you know deep down that _I need to do this!"_ Clarke shouts at him, triggering something inside of him. Some deep unknown emotion he didn't know he was capable of feeling.

And the next time he spoke, he didn't think before he cried out the words. Not even for a second.

"But if the roles were switched it wouldn't matter to you because you don't love me too!" Bellamy only realized what he had just yelled out a moment too late. His eyes widen and his lips parted in shock, feeling his throat go dry as his pulse raced impossibly quickly.

Clarke looked about the same as he did by the confession. Her eyebrows creased as she stared at him, mouth hanging open. She didn't speak. Neither of them did. Neither of them said a word about the fact that Bellamy had pretty much just told Clarke that he loved her.

And that she didn't love him back. Which confused Clarke even more. But it shouldn't. Because she doesn't. Does she?

After a few moments like this, Bellamy finally breaks the silence.

"I-I'm sorry," He croaks out hurriedly, "I didn't mean, I mean, I shouldn't have, I..." He swallowed hard as he thought about his next words.

"Please don't go," He finally gets out, before giving Clarke one last glance, turning on his heel, and leaving her tent, trying to ignore the weight of rejection tugging on his heart.

When he reached his tent, he let out a shaky breath as he tried to comprehend everything that had happened that night.

Bellamy wasn't one hundred percent sure about anything. But one thing was bugging him the most.

He loved Clarke Griffin?

 **.**

 **if you want a part 2 let me know but i think i'm gonna end this one here, i kinda like the angst**


	5. You Were Hers

I try not to grumble in annoyance as I plop myself down on the ground next to the small fire. I stare into the burning heat as I ignore the frustrated sensation growing in my chest which now seems as ferocious as the ball of flames.

I can't believe she left. She just left. Without saying a damn thing to me. Not like I matter. Not like I haven't been mourning her and living by her 'last words' for six _damn_ years. I twist my face up in anger.

Clarke had left to rescue Madi, who had been in Shallow Valley. Monty said that one minute she was there and the next she was gone. Like she had just disappeared into thin air. He'd said they'd looked for ages, but she never turned up. Which makes Clarke's frantic actions understandable when he and the others had returned in the rover.

However, what bothered me the most about the situation, call me selfish; not like I care, was that when I had tried to comfort Clarke, she had just shrugged me off and wouldn't even let me touch her. I had even offered to go with her to help find Madi, but she had refused. Then she proceeded to leave without even saying goodbye that night.

At first I had assumed that it was because she was so worried about Madi, but when she returned a couple minutes ago with her, happy and healthy, she had still avoided my eyes. I don't know what's going on with her, but something's wrong and I hate it.

I toss a rock into the fire aimlessly, trying to calm myself down. There had to be a reasonable explanation as to why she was acting this way toward me, but before I can think on it any further, someone drops down beside me.

I glance over at Madi, offering her a small smile. She returns it.

"Hey," I say, and she just stares at me questioningly. When I notice this, I frown at her, as if urging her on to tell me whatever's on her mind.

"Clarke says Octavia isn't the same girl she told me about in her stories." Madi says quietly, as if what she's saying is dangerous. Which, knowing Ocatvia; which I kind of feel like I don't anymore, very well could be.

When I don't respond, she lets out a small sigh and continues speaking.

"I mean, I guess I can't expect everyone to be the same. It's been six years. Everything's different." She shrugs at the ground, and I feel a tinge of pity for her, knowing that she's feeling so down. "At least that's what Clarke keeps saying."

I frown at her words, but before I can analyze them any further, Madi speaks up again.

"Like Clarke says, lots has changed." She looks up at me, a small grin cracking on her lips. "She didn't tell me you'd be so _hairy_." She says the word in disgust and crinkles up her nose jokingly, as I fake hurt.

"Ouch," I mutter, rubbing my beard slowly, an amused smirk spreading across my face. Then a question springs to mind.

"Madi?" I ask quietly, not sure what I was expecting as an answer. "How did you recognize me,when we first came down?"

She looks up at me, almost confused. "The drawings of course," She says, a small giggle leaving her mouth as if I was a complete idiot for thinking of anything else.

"Drawings?" I ask, Clarke drew me? She drew all of us? I guess that did explain a lot. I mean, I saw her old cell on the ring.

Madi nods excitedly, as if sharing some big secret.

"Yeah, she drew tons of them." She smiles, looking at her hands, "She drew everyone. She drew Octavia a lot though," Her voice trails off and her smile is replaced by a frown.

"It sucks that she's so different now," She mutters and I silently agree. "She was my favourite." She says, and I almost laugh at the thought of her having a 'favourite'. It seems just like something she would do though.

"But mostly, Clarke drew you," She says, and my breath hitches in my throat at her words.

"M-me?" I ask, scolding myself for that unconscious stutter.

"Yeah," Madi replies, "Once, she showed me a drawing of you she did before Praimfaya, she didn't let me hold it though, it was practically falling apart. I was surprised it survived."

My heart drops at her words, my mouth suddenly becoming dry. I swallow.

" _Before_ Praimfaya?" I ask, unsure I heard her right. But she just nods in confirmation.

"Octavia might have been my favourite, but I think you were hers," Madi says, like it's no big deal at all. Like Clarke didn't draw me before Praimfaya, or that I was her 'favourite'? What does that even mean?

"She talked to you everyday, you know?" Madi continues talking and I frown at her words. Talked to me? Talked to me how?

"On the radio," She mumbles, as if reading my mind.

"I mean, she asked about Raven and Monty and everyone, but she talked to you. Only you." I stare at her in confusion, Clarke talked to me? Everyday? Why just me? The radio didn't work.

My thoughts were so jumbled and confused I couldn't even think of what to say in response to Madi's confession. But she doesn't stop there.

"I think that's why she's so sad now," Madi mentions Clarke, looking down at the ground.

"Because everything's so different now," She mumbles. Her words almost inaudible. Like she's already said too much. And maybe she has.

Because then it hits me.

 **...**

 **part two?**


	6. You Were Hers pt2

I sift through the small stack of rations we have left, mentally fretting over the amount of food compared to the amount of people and time we had. My eyebrows form a crease on my forehead as I concentrate on trying to neatly line up each individual piece of... God knows what this stuff is. But it's edible and that's what matters.

I've always been somewhat of a perfectionist, I let a small smile hover over my features for a fraction of a second as I remember organizing and reorganizing the medical supplies in my mothers office on the ark. But right now I could care less if the rations were properly stacked or sorted through, but I needed to get my mind off... Well, of everything.

After a couple minutes I decide to give the food a break and move over to the edge of the tent I am in, to see if I can find Madi. I remember how scared I was when Monty told me that she wasn't with them. The feeling was almost as powerful as when I saw Bellamy with her.

I shut my eyes at the thought, as if I can just block it out of my mind. But every time I close my eyes I see them, Bellamy's arms around her as their lips meet. My eyes fly open and my hands begin to fidget as I try to put my mind on anything else. As I try to pretend that I didn't spend 2,199 nights dreaming of what it would be like to be wrapped up in Bellamy's arms, only to finally see him again and watch him do it to someone else.

My heart clenches uncomfortably at the thought. I should've expected this, though. How could I expect him to wait for me, when he didn't even know I was here. He didn't even know I was _alive_. I try to convince myself that I'm happy for him, I try to tell myself that he deserves this, and it's good; _really good_ , that he moved on in space, and didn't dwell on the girl that he thought was dead.

Yet, no matter how much I tell myself any of that, I can't help but feel as though he came all the way down here to make my heart whole again, then turn around, rip it out, and stomp on it. I know that wasn't his intention, I know that with my whole soul. But that's sure as hell what it feels like.

I lift the flap to the tent slightly, looking around the small camp that Wonkru has set up for themselves. I see Octavia sitting by one of the many fires with Indra, and I feel a pang of sorrow when I think of how I had to explain to Madi earlier, who was practically bubbling with excitement to meet Octavia; basically her hero, that she was much different than how I remembered. That she wasn't the girl from the stories I had told her.

As I continue searching, my eyes flit across Echo. I feel a shockingly strong stab of jealousy when I see her, she's talking to Monty and laughing and smiling along with whatever he's saying. Of course Bellamy chose her. She's beautiful. And although I never had the nicest feelings toward her, I never hated her. All along, even when she was holding a sword to my throat and when Roan banished her and when Bellamy hated her, he's long way from there now, I always saw that she was just as fierce, loyal, and strong as the rest of us. We've all done things we're not proud of. So has she.

And even now, when she's spent the last however many years receiving all the love I wish I could get from Bellamy, I couldn't bring myself to hate her. Hell, I probably couldn't even dislike her if I tried. It's just not in me.

Then I spot Madi, she's sitting by another fire. I am about the step out of the tent and call out to her, when I notice who the figure sitting beside her is. My breath catches in my throat as I recognize Bellamy. Madi is talking to him, a sad expression upon her face. My guess is it's about his sister. I slide back inside the tent, shutting the flap after me. I can't go over there to get Madi. I can't show myself to Bellamy because what if I break?

What if he asks me how I am. What if he senses something's wrong and questions me about it? What if he asks the wrong thing and then I blurt out a stupid answer. He always gets me to talk. Always. So I take a seat on a wooden box and look around at the small interior of the tent I am currently residing in. My eyes fall on the corner of my sketchbook, peeking out from under some of the rations.

I reach across the tent and snatch it up, slowly flipping through the pages, letting a small smile rest easily on my face as I am met with many sketchy drawings of everyone I knew. My mother, Monty, Jasper, Harper, Emori, Murphy, Octavia, Lincoln, Kane, Madi, Bellamy. I trace my hand across the charcoal version of Bellamy Blake, sadness filling my chest as I think about the fact that he's less than twenty feet away from me, yet I can't even touch him. Because he's not mine to touch.

Before I can even think about what's happening, I watch a teardrop slip onto the piece of paper, soaking into the top of Bellamy's head. I sniff and quickly wipe my eye. I take a deep breath before continuing to flip through the pages. I'm not crying over him. Not anymore. I try not to think of how perfect everything felt when Bellamy came rushing into my cell a couple days ago.

Up until that moment, I honestly didn't know if anything that had previously happened was real. But then, there he was, clear as day. I remember him pulling me up and feeling his arms around me and everything just felt so right. He was here. He was alive.

"And now you're home," I had said, tears building quickly in my eyes. Even if he had no idea, I knew very well when those words came out of my mouth that I didn't mean here, on the ground, on Earth, when I said home. I meant with me. I meant he was home because somewhere in my naive head I had thought just because he was my home, that I was his. I thought wrong.

My hand stops flipping when something catches my eye. A piece of crumbling, stained paper shoved in between a couple of pages in the book. I reach toward it, slowly removing the fragile piece of paper. It was the drawing of Bellamy I had done before Praimfaya. Before I knew I wasn't going to see him for five years. I didn't do this drawing so I could remember his face. But I hated thinking about the reason that I did.

I smile sadly at the sketch in my hands. My eyes trace the lines of his face and I silently praise myself on the amount of detail I had put into this. I had captured every one of his freckles, every small curl in his hair, I had even managed to give him that sarcastic smirk that I had missed so much while he was on the ring.

I swallow the lump in my throat and clear it before placing the picture back in between some drawings, and tossing the book down on the rations. I then make my way over to my makeshift bed before collapsing into it. I close my eyes and try not to picture him. Obviously not hard enough.

Because as soon as my eyes flutter shut, I see his face. I try not to picture his smile, a genuine one that I don't get to see that often. I try not to hear his laugh, the one I missed so much. I try not to imagine his lips against mine like I have for the past six years as I lay awake at night staring at the stars. Knowing I was completely and utterly alone.

 _Stupid girl._ I scold myself for thinking of Bellamy that way. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He's with Echo now. And he's happy. They're happy. And I wasn't going to let my naive sense of hope I had been carrying around with me for years ruin that. I was going to forget that I had spent the last six years processing my emotions for someone who was forgetting his for me. Because now he loves her.

And I'm not her.

 **. . .**

 **okay so this is part two, i'm probably going to make this a three parter, if not four, because i really like this but i don't feel like i could make a whole book out of it. i hope you guys enjoyed!**


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